Flycatcher Downs if i ever leave, i could learn to miss you

he bends and licks at the fur upon the prey, going about deshedding to devour what little morsels he could from the weasel. more often the morales would fake eating his fill, to force upon the majority towards the younger—caring in his subtle ways that jaime remains oblivious to, to which alamar prefers.
blue eyes lift up, watching him follow the suggestion and curl much the way he’d been prior. except he goes about bending the leg he’d injured and alamar is quick to catch it; straighten out your leg though, he urges. discomfort could irritate it more.